Things Past and Roads Not Taken
by Iane Casey
Summary: Series of unrelated drabbles and short stories set in different [H]ouse eras and or an Alternate Universe. Genres will vary.
1. Functionally Dysfunctional Fathering

_**Disclaimer:**_Not mine. Shore & Co.'s.

_**A/N:**_The first five drabbles go to Ines (aka sheis1963 on Twitter) for donating to Save the Children after winning my offer over at the Help_Lisa LJ. :)

Timeline: Season 7-ish. Focuses on how the House/Rachel relationship developed. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Functionally Dysfunctional Fathering**_

* * *

_**.**_

He couldn't say that he hated babysitting the little buccaneer, but sometimes it really did have some upsides to it.

Like how he'd ask her to get something by turning it into a game.

She wasn't a dog, and it wasn't fetch, but they did get some fun out of it. Well, Rachel did, he thought to himself. Mostly, he was just thankful and relieved to be out of her curious gaze.

It was scary sometimes, how she'd just stare at him or what he was doing, with those big blue eyes. She was too observant.

His thoughts drifted back to their "game" and himself defending how it wasn't, in any way, treating her like some dog.

There were times when he asked her to get something like his reading glasses, and he'd rewarded her with a cookie. Two, if she retrieved whatever item he asked for extra fast.

He could recall days when he played hide and seek with her and pretended to be looking for her when, in fact, he'd only be lounging about in the living room couch, watching TV on mute (this is the concession he had to bear with, just in case something happened to the kid—he couldn't afford not hearing anything while she ran through the house looking for a hiding spot).

He grinned a bit at the memory of the things he used to do.

Including that one time when he had sat on her mother's front porch as he watched her play in the snow.

If he felt bored, he'd roll up a small snowball and throw it at her back. She'd turn to look at him while he'd paint his face blank, pretending not to know anything.

If she was feeling extra naughty, she'd shovel up handfuls of snow, and without bothering to roll it up, she'd throw it at him, grinning mischievously if she got a hit. Most of the time, she did, and she'd giggle at the face he made.

There were only a number of games that he actually agreed on playing with her (because they didn't pose the threat of emasculation).

Like Pirates. He'd pretend to be the captain of the ship and she'd be the unlucky landlubber who had to walk the plank. Or sometimes, if Rachel was feeling stubborn, she'd ask—well, more demand than ask—him if she could be the pirate. When the latter happened, he almost always ended up in pain (well, his leg did, but it usually wouldn't hurt so much) but amused at her effort to sound like a pirate to be reckoned with, even making up her own pirate laugh.

A smile never failed to touch his lips whenever he reminded himself that he'd bought her the bed she had only started using a couple of weeks ago. Bought it for her with his money. Not Wilson's, for once.

It was, in Rachel's words, "Very pirate-y."

When she turned four, he learned to be more cautious with what games he whipped up for them to play.

Now, they actually played things and he was more interactive with her than he used to be.

But he knew that their games had to advance a little, because, seriously, why would he keep asking her to fetch stuff (he still did, but it's become a rare occasion) when he needed to start feeding her sponge-like mind more relevant things?

Like how wrestling wasn't real, and she couldn't reenact any moves on him. She'd tried it once, and he had ended up with a bloody nose.

Cuddy had not been pleased.

He had felt that in the way she'd cleaned his bloody nose for him.

They were banned from watching wrestling since then.

At least until he and Rachel were positively certain she wasn't at home to know they'd been watching.

Like some black market thing. When the cops were away... they're free to break rules.

Like how Santa wasn't real (this one he has yet to reveal, because Cuddy would have his balls on a skewer).

Like mathematics. Basic, boring mathematics.

When he has to teach her really basic mathematics, they argued over what cookie or cereals or shapes of blocks to use.

Most of the time they used the cookies and cereals; more encouraging for development, since Rachel got to eat them if she answered correctly.

Sometimes, when she couldn't and she'd been unable to answer a couple of consecutive questions, her lips would quiver and he'd give in.

Once.

Okay, fine, he grumbled to himself. Twice.

But then he taught her again (with as much, very much patience as he could muster) until she got it right for the next round of questions.

The easiest thing to teach her was the human anatomy. At first Cuddy pretended to scold him for teaching her about it too early (he doesn't dare teach her about the reproductive organs, because, again, Cuddy would kill him in a tortuous way he wouldn't dare imagine), but he knew she found it adorable (he could almost gag- him. Adorable. Never), how Rachel just listened intently.

She was too smart for her age, sometimes. She got things easily, observed things a lot, asked questions relentlessly.

She was, no doubt, a smart kid- like he'd said more than a year ago.

Without meaning to, he had become really attached to her. He didn't love her, but he was close, if he were to estimate. Maybe he already was. He didn't know, and was slightly afraid of knowing.

One night, as he leaned back against the side of her bed, and she was on her stomach, her chin resting on his shoulder, her sleepy eyes staring at the book he was reading her, she called him something he swore that, at one time, would have made him run for the hills.

"Papa?"

Her voice was quiet, sleepy and tired from all the playing they'd done while waiting for her mother to arrive from work.

Without even thinking about what she'd just called him, he replied, saying, "Yes, Rachel?"

"Sleep now?"

"Alright," he said, closing the book and pulling himself up to sit on the edge of her bed.

He tucked her in, held up his palm for her.

She gave him a high five, grinning as she bid him good night.

They didn't do goodnight kisses and had very rarely hugged.

They always gave each other high fives, though.

It wasn't what most people did, but it was just how they were.

And they liked it better that way.

As her eyes closed, he switched off the lamp on her nightstand and plugged in her night-light. He stood from her bed and left her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

It was only when he was reclining on the couch in the living room that it finally registered. Even shocked him a bit,.

Rachel had called him... Papa.

The urge to run came to him. But instead of that, he fought to stop the smallest of smiles from appearing on his face.

It did anyway, and he was glad.

At one time this would have been a burdensome and troubling progress. Because, really, something had to be wrong with the kid for her to even want to call him that.

But now, knowing everything they'd been through, he guessed that he wasn't doing a bad job either. He only hoped he wouldn't screw up because hurting her or her mother was the last thing he wanted to do.

He closed his eyes, trying his best not to over think things the way he usually did.

In just a short while, he was fast asleep, mouth falling open.

When Cuddy got home, a smile graced her lips as she passed by the living room, hearing House's light snoring as she made her way to Rachel's room to check on her daughter first.

She entered her baby's room, smiling at the sight of Rachel. Knowing full well that she was already so deep in sleep, Cuddy just brushed her hair from her face, bent forward and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead before exiting the room again.

She made her way back to the couch and sat on the available space next to his hip.

She placed a hand over his stomach, lightly running it up to his chest so she could pat him gently there.

"House," she whispered, smiling at the sight of him sleeping. Sometimes the most normal things that people do, the simplest even that she sees House doing, made her smile. Seeing him sleep never failed to tug at her lips.

"I'm home," she announced quietly, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. She pulled away and kicked off her pumps, looking at him while her hand continued roaming his broad chest.

At the sight of him smiling that roguish smile of his, she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers once more, kissing him with a little more force.

When she pulled back again, their eyes met and she smiled at him.

"Hi," he greeted, left hand resting on her knee.

"Hey," she said back, snuggling into him when he pulled at her to lie down beside him. There was enough space for the two of them on her couch.

One arm wrapped securely around her, he pulled her closer and buried his nose into her hair.

"Had dinner?" He asked.

"Yeah. You and Rachel?"

"Mac and Cheese," House stated in a voice that implied he was about ready to go crazy.

She chuckled, asking, "We're still not over that phase?"

The way she used the word 'we' made something inside him bloom, but he'd never tell her that. Ever.

"Don't think we'll be over it anytime soon."

Cuddy chuckled once more.

They remained quiet for a while, a comfortable silence blanketing them.

"Rachel called me Papa," House murmured out of the blue, stroking her arm absentmindedly.

Cuddy's head tilted to meet his eyes, her sapphire eyes pooling with what seemed to be adoration, nervousness, and something else he couldn't place, all at the same time.

Never mind him thinking she was acting like some shrink, the question had to be asked, so she did, asking him cautiously, "How do you feel about that?"

Shrugging, House replied, "I'm okay with it."

Brows furrowed, Cuddy doubtfully asked, "You're 'okay' with it?" She had to know what he really felt, because she couldn't let Rachel continue calling him her father if he wasn't genuinely okay with it. Her daughter would only end up getting hurt.

"To be honest, if this happened a year ago, I'd say no..." House trailed off before smiling down at her.

"You didn't really answer my question," Cuddy pouted.

"I'm really fine with it," he assured her, placing a quick peck to her lips.

When he pulled back, she was still looking suspiciously at him.

"Maybe you're the one not fine with it?" He suggested calmly, curiously.

Sighing, Cuddy melded her body against his.

"I'm fine with it," she told him honestly, "I'm actually glad."

"That's a relief," House joked.

Silence descended upon them again, but this time there was the slightest bit of tension weighing over them. For once, it wasn't coming from House but from Cuddy.

"What?" House asked.

Unraveling her face from the crook of his neck, Cuddy met his eyes once more and quietly spoke.

"You're great with her, House. You really are."

Her words made him nervous. Even more so when she swallowed before opening her mouth once more to continue.

"Just don't hurt her, okay? I don't mean physically. I know you'd never harm her."

She paused once more, thinking about how to best explain what she meant.

"By letting her call you that... I don't want her getting hurt by extension if something happens to you. Or us. I think you understand what I'm trying to say."

She looked into his eyes, wanting to know if he was following her at all.

Nodding and understanding fully, he said, "Yeah."

By letting Rachel call him her father, he wordlessly took a larger role in her life. He had more than himself to think about now.

As he placed a reassuring kiss against Cuddy's temple, he smiled.

He was scared shitless, yes.

But with her and Rachel in his life... he could only think about how much more scared shitless he'd be without them.


	2. Do I Need a Reason

_**Do I Need a Reason**_

* * *

.

"Why do you love me?"

Cuddy slowly picked her head up from the budget report she was preoccupied with reading when the question registered.

"What?" She asked House who was standing a few feet from her desk, his shoulders slouched in defeat.

Glancing at her to meet her eyes, he asked again, "Why do you love me?"

Noting the vulnerability and sadness in his voice, Cuddy set aside her work, stood from her desk, and approached him.

Her hand tentatively slid up his abdomen to settle atop his heart. House closed his eyes to hide what seemed to be embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Cuddy softly inquired, feeling his heart hammering against her hand. When her eyes met his she wanted to enfold him in her arms, but she had to find out where this was coming from.

House shook his head. "Nothing. I just need to know."

Her tone still soft, she clarified, "Know what? Why I love you?"

House nodded once before severing their gaze to look down at the carpet beneath his feet. "Why me?"

"Do I need a reason?" Cuddy asked with a soft smile even though he couldn't see. She knew he was feeling undeserving again. They've been through this a couple of times to know what was going through his mind at that moment.

"Cuddy..."

"I love you," she said so firmly yet sweetly and sincerely at the same time that House's chest constricted when he finally met her eyes.

"Why?" House asked desperately, his voice quiet and pleading.

"Why do you love me?" Cuddy threw back in question, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't answer, she patted his chest tenderly. "Not here, not at work. We said we'd try our best to keep it separate."

House nodded curtly.

"We'll talk at home," Cuddy said before reaching up to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I do love you. Don't ever question that. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

House closed his eyes and sighed, nodding once more.

"I love you, too," he whispered into her ear, hugging her quickly before turning on his heel to leave her office.

"And House?" She called to him, grinning slightly as she waited for him to turn his head.

When he did, she added, "If you're lucky, I might even show you just how much."

That seemed to do the trick as she saw his eyes light up in anticipation. He smiled that small smile of his before leaving.

Cuddy sighed. Sometimes she wished he wasn't so... She couldn't even think of a word. So like _that_. But when she thought about it _that_ was one of the many things she loved about him.

Whereas other people took advantage of their significant other's love, confident that it would _always_ be there, House was the opposite. He did everything in his power (although sometimes, admittedly, he overdoes things) to make sure that that the love was still there. He fed their flame, kept it burning. Another thing she loved.

She was able to get off work early that day, so she went grocery shopping before heading home. She knew House would be home late, having heard that his patient wasn't doing too well.

She relieved Marina and let Rachel play while she made dinner for them. It was a rare occasion for her, making dinner and being home early, but lately, she has been trying hard to be able to do both. She didn't want her daughter to grow up thinking that her mother's job was more important than her. It was a hard feat though, but she knew she did have a choice (House made her realize that).

Dinner prepared and table set up; all she needed was for her man to arrive.

Deciding that the work in the briefcase she brought home could wait, Cuddy headed to Rachel's room to spend some time alone with her daughter.

When House got home that night (exactly two and a half hours after she did) they had a quiet dinner and put Rachel to bed after watching TV for an hour or so.

"You going to answer my question now, or you still avoiding it?" House suddenly asked as they sat in the dining room, next to each other. He was toying with her fingers, running his thumb along the ridges of her hand.

Cuddy licked her lips before defending, "I wasn't avoiding, you idiot."

"Then answer me now," House responded, almost whining, in a low voice.

"House..." Cuddy sighed, stroking his hand with her thumb. "You're the greatest pain in my ass."

House stared at her before blinking. She obviously confused him with that statement.

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand with hers before continuing. "You're an incredible man, flawed as you may be. You are, and will always be, the most incredible man I've ever known."

Their eyes never strayed as Cuddy spoke. "I love your mind. I love how things between us never get boring."

"I love you, because you're great at what you do, and you don't let anyone get in the way of you saving someone's life no matter how high the odds are stacked against it."

"When someone is being bullied into submission, whether out of work or in it, I like how you fight for them. Even if it meant you getting tripped or receiving a black eye. I love how you fight for what you believe in and what you think is right."

"I love how you love me," Cuddy's eyes sparkled as she said this. "I love how you're learning to love Rachel."

"I love how you're nobody else but yourself," Cuddy finished with a soft smile, saving the other things she loved about him for later.

She waited for him to speak, her fingers continuously caressing his.

After a moment, the corners of House's mouth tugged up into a thankful smile that reached his eyes.

"I love you, too," he whispered. Cuddy grinned.

Standing up, he confidently and playfully demanded, "Now, show me how much, and I'll do the same," as he pulled her towards the bedroom.


	3. Cravings

_**Cravings**_

* * *

_**.**_

"You've got to be kidding me."

House's face was a sight that would have made Cuddy burst out in laughter if she wasn't so serious.

"I'm not."

"It's late! Where do you expect me to-"

"I don't know!" Cuddy practically cried, her eyes glazing in desperation.

Sighing, House nodded his acquiescence.

"Fine," he mumbled before telling her that he'd be back in a bit. He took his car keys from the hallway table and made his way out of the house he now shared with her.

Cuddy sighed heavily and sagged against the arm of the sofa. She plugged her iPod's earpods into her ears, chose the music she felt like listening to at that moment, and settled her hands on her stomach.

She was more than certain that it was going to be a long wait.

It was almost a quarter of an hour later when House returned. He rang the bell- he had left his house key- and waited for Cuddy to waddle forth and open the door for him.

When she pulled the door open, she immediately inspected his person and checked if he came bearing her demanded food.

He handed her a small paper bag, making her eyes light up immediately. He internally noted that she was purposely blocking the doorway so she could order him back out if he'd bought the wrong thing.

When she looked inside the bag, she looked so elated he swore that, at that moment, she loved that jar of kimchi more than she loved him.

Cuddy gave him one swift kiss before quickly making for the kitchen, House shaking his head in amusement before stepping inside the house, closing the door behind him, and heading to the couch.

A couple of seconds later, Cuddy joined him, settling in between his legs, eating her kimchi from a bowl with gusto. House's arms automatically encompassed her form, his hands protectively splaying against her ever-growing baby bump.

"You owe me," he teased, before taking her proffered cabbage into his mouth. He chewed as she smiled happily at him.

"I owe you nothing," she grinned. Teasingly, she added, "You impregnate me, you pay the price."

"Good thing we're having a boy," he chuckled. "The chances of him and me conspiring against you are higher."

Cuddy laughed and shook her head, enjoying the image the scenario brought to her mind.

"Really, though," Cuddy whispered after a while. She set the bowl in her hands on the coffee table before turning so she could look at him.

"You've been amazing these past few months," she stated genuinely and smiled brightly, the fingers of her right hand framing his stubbly cheek. "I couldn't ask for more. Thank you."

House's eyes sparkled with accomplishment and a sprinkle of sudden shyness as he smiled tenderly at the woman he loved.

He closed the gap between them and kissed her slowly, tenderly.

"I aim to serve," he whispered when they pulled apart.

Cuddy chuckled before mumbling playfully against his lips.

"Good."


	4. Always

_**Always**_

* * *

_**.**_

"I'm pregnant."

House had to do a double take at that. His head snapped to his daughter so fast and so hard that he swore a bone in his neck popped.

"You're what?"

"Pregnant, Dad?" Rachel repeated.

House was still trying to assess whether he'd heard her correctly or if he'd gone mad.

HisRachel, pregnant.

_His and_ _Cuddy's Rachel_. Pregnant.

Grinning adorably at her stunned (a very rare occasion) father, Rachel took a seat next to him on the long couch and leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

"Dad, I'm 27," she chuckled, linking her arm around his.

"And I don't know if you've selectively forgotten, but I'm married, too. You walked me down the aisle, remember?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet to House's ears.

"How could he forget?" Cuddy said in amusement as she entered the living room and sat next to their daughter.

"You heard?" Rachel asked, beaming at her mother.

"Every single word," Cuddy smiled, beaming beautifully back at Rachel as she opened her arms to wrap them around her. "Congratulations!"

When they pulled apart, Cuddy asked, "How far along?"

"Six weeks," Rachel said, "We only found out last week."

"Where is that husband of yours anyway?" House finally spoke, leaning heavily against the cushion of the couch.

"Oh there you are!" Rachel joked, grinning. "We thought you'd lost your tongue for a while there."

House only smirked at his daughter, still unable to wrap his mind around the fact that in several months, he'd have a grandchild.

"Calvin's just buying us dessert," Rachel said, answering her father's question.

"I'm having a grandchild," Cuddy said, her smile never waning. She hugged Rachel again, her eyes meeting House's.

House rolled his eyes before speaking.

"Congratulations," he said to Rachel as mother and daughter pulled apart from the embrace.

"Permission to hug?" Rachel asked, her eyes going puppy on him, arms opened and at the ready.

Sighing dramatically, House nodded and spread his arms open.

"You just made me feel so old, you know that?" House asked, smiling slightly. His eyes met Cuddy's and she smiled at the same time Rachel laughed.

"But congratulations," House added, finally returning the hug, squeezing the daughter he never really thought he'd have.

He and Cuddy never really married, but they did stay together. It was far from an easy road, but they managed to overcome every obstacle.

"You're going to be a great mother," House told her quietly, pulling away to look into is daughter's eyes sincerely. He was so glad he didn't screw her up the way he'd always feared he would.

"And you are going to make a great grandfather," Rachel told him honestly. She paused for a while, glancing at her mother once before looking back into the electric blue eyes she knew how to read so well, and said, "Just like you were a great father to me."

House's eyes softened for a bit, and she swore he almost smiled softly, but he nursed his features quickly and joked (his way of avoiding awkward feelings to reel within him), "Don't count on me to run after your kid."

Cuddy laughed before she stood up. "I'm going to check on dinner," she said, before disappearing into the kitchen to give them a moment.

Rachel snorted playfully, telling him, "Of course not. Wouldn't want to break your bones, old man."

House smirked at her.

Rachel hugged him once more, closing her eyes as she happily sighed.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she continued, "For always being around."

"Not dead yet, matey," House gruffly whispered, allowing himself to be vulnerable for a while. He smiled that small smile of his and told her softly, "I'll always be around. Whether you want to or not."


	5. Dr Cuddy

_**Dr. Cuddy**_

* * *

.

"Alright, Dr. Cuddy, how do we save this patient?"

"I think we can save her with some bandages," said the little Cuddy, dressed in her own little white lab coat, legs crossed in their makeshift clinic room in the kitchen.

She paused for a bit, a thought coming to her, and said, "Could we uhm... Could we pop her arm back in place?"

Barbie had had a terrible slip and fallen on her way out of the house. She'd just broken up with Ken.

Rachel had laid her down on a pillow on the kitchen counter. The detached arm was on top of the counter, to the right of the pillow their patient was on.

House was seated on a barstool, elbows against the edge of the counter, sporting an amused grin. He and Cuddy had brought her up well, so far, and he was glad to have been part of it though he'd never admit that out loud.

"I think we could do that," House answered her, nodding. With a gesture of his hand, he told her, "You do the honors, Doctor."

Rachel grinned at him before nursing her expression into seriousness.

House watched his eight year old retired pirate pretend to be a doctor and something in him bloomed. He internally denied that it was his heart doing that.

"This will hurt a bit," Rachel told Barbie. She glanced at House before reaching for Barbie's arm. As she popped the arm back into the socket, she couldn't stifle her giggles when House made an exaggerated cry of pain.

"Dad! It's not supposed to sound like that!" She laughed, eyes trained on her silly father.

House never got tired of hearing her call him that. It always softened him—unfortunately Rachel had discovered that when she turned seven and started using it to get what she wanted when her mother refused her.

"What?" House asked innocently, looking at her.

"You're not supposed to be funny!" She sounded so much like her mother. "We have to be serious," she added despite the small grin eating at her lips.

Pretending to take her seriously, House nodded in feigned understanding and gestured for her to continue.

He watched as Rachel wrapped Barbie's arm at the same time, taking an exaggerated level of care in handling the offended limb.

"There you go," she said when she'd finished.

"Good job," House commended her with a small smile, earning one in return.

"What time is Mom coming home?" She asked hopefully.

"She'll be here in a bit," House said, getting off the stool and walking towards the cupboards. "Come help set the table," he told her.

"I'll just put these back in my room," Rachel said with a grin. "We all know how Mom gets when I leave toys in the kitchen. Or the dining table. Or the—"

"I get it," House snorted playfully. "Go. Scram. And don't think I know you'd try to escape helping me out."

"I won't!" Rachel called out from the hallway as she made her way to her room.

Fifteen minutes later the table was already set and House and Rachel were on the couch, watching cartoons, when they heard Cuddy's car pull up.

Rachel was quick to run to the front door while House took his time. When he got to the door, he smiled at Rachel's happiness.

When Cuddy opened the door, Rachel squealed for her mother and hugged her instantly.

"Hey, baby," Cuddy greeted her daughter, pressing a kiss to her head. House took her bag from her and gave her a quick "hi" and a kiss.

"Yuck," Rachel said.

House rolled his eyes as he pulled away from Cuddy. "You didn't even see it," he retorted with a smirk.

Rachel pulled away from her mother's embrace and smirked back at her father.

"Well, I heard it. And it sounded yucky," she stubbornly stated. She made her way back to the living room to give her parents a bit of time before dinner.

House grinned at her retreating form as he helped Cuddy out of her coat.

"Hey," he whispered in her ear before placing a soft kiss to the shell of it.

"Hey yourself," she greeted back in a husky voice. She turned in his arms after he hung the coat on the rack next to the door.

"I do hope she still thinks it's 'yucky' when and hopefully until she turns 18. Or 21. Or 25."

Cuddy bit her lip to keep from smiling, "I like you as Protective Daddy." Her face was serious when she said it. But a couple of seconds later she couldn't help but laugh at how cute his protectiveness of Rachel was when it came to boys.

"You're so going to pay," he threatened teasingly, pulling her closer to his warm body.

"Am I?" Cuddy challenged, smiling devilishly.

"Yes."

"Promises, promises," Cuddy teased in a husky voice..

For a while they stood quietly until Cuddy leaned her head against his shoulder and asked, "How was your day?"

"Well, I skipped work. But didn't really feel like I did."

Cuddy arched a brow at that, tilting her head back to look at him questioningly.

"Rachel practically commanded me to play Doctor with her. We diagnosed more inanimate toys today than I have for months," he joked. Cuddy chuckled, shaking her head.

At least they've graduated from turning the living room and dining room into an insanely messy pirate ship. She cringed (and inwardly smiled) at the memories of the many times she'd had to put things where House and Rachel had gotten them after playing. Every time was like a tornado had savaged the rooms concerned.

"Any interesting cases?" Cuddy asked, grinning up at him.

House pressed his lips to hers for a quick peck before answering. "Mr. Duck had a curious case of the cold," he said.

"That all?" Cuddy teased.

"Well, I guess the most interesting patient today was Slip and Fall Barbie. We had to pop her arm back into its socket."

Condescendingly, Cuddy patted his cheek as she said, "Poor baby."

House chuckled gravelly.

"You're a great dad," Cuddy told him quietly, a bright smile taking hold of her beautiful face.

"I'm no-"

"Shut up, you are," she firmly told him.

"Never think otherwise," she said, pressing a reassuring kiss on his lips before pulling away from his arms.

"Come on, dinner time," she whispered as she turned from him to call Rachel from the living room.

Cuddy took Rachel's hand and together they crossed the hallway to get to the dining room.

Less than two seconds after they did, Rachel emerged from it and ran towards him, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her.

He was more than just Cuddy's boyfriend now. He's known that for a long time already.

He was part of the family.

Part of _a_ family.

_His_ family.


	6. The Confession

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Shore & Co's. This chapter contains lines and scenes from "Bombshells."

_**A/N: **Pennnny, thanks for the superspeed beta! I loves you! :D_

Post-Christmas and New Year gift! Including next update. Forgive me for being such a lousy updater this year? :)

What if House had had the strength to be there for Cuddy and admit what he'd done?

Set during Bombshells. You could call it my Bombshells Reboot. ;D Do let me know if you liked it!

Enjoy!

* * *

_**The Confession**_

* * *

.

"I knew you'd come," Cuddy whispered, a small smile gracing her lips.

House rounded the bed and sat on the stool next to it. He clasped her hand and looked into her eyes.

For a while all they did was stare at each other.

"For a moment there, I thought you wouldn't," Cuddy whispered moments later, her voice husky and slightly trembling. She bit her lip and smiled lopsidedly at him, the pad of her thumb caressing his skin.

"I'm sorry," House whispered, pulling her hand up and kissing it softly.

"You okay?" Cuddy asked him, squeezing his hand.

"I was afraid." House pulled his chair closer to her bed and lowered his voice. "I _can't _lose you, Cuddy. The thought alone... I'm sorry I wasn't here."

House pulled her hand against his lips once more as he looked at her, regretting and resenting how weak and cowardly he'd been. "I'm sorry I haven't been here. I want to be," he whispered genuinely.

Cuddy shook her head and gazed lovingly at him, her acceptance overwhelming him when she said, "You're here now. That's all that matters to me."

Cuddy pulled her hand from his and cupped his cheek, tenderly stroking his stubbly skin.

"You... are _everything_ that matters to me," House admitted quietly, his cerulean eyes warming her heart and her very soul. It was the truth. She was all he really had, all he really wanted and needed. And she deserved to know the truth, deserved to feel she mattered to him, that she was important.

They soaked in the comfortable silence and the heavy blanket of love they suddenly found themselves wrapped in.

"House?" She whispered his name so quietly a minute or two later, he was afraid she'd shut him out before he could even confess to something that's been eating at him.

He hummed softly in reply, acknowledging her call for his attention.

"You remember what we agreed on?" She was treading carefully, still not a hundred percent certain that his sudden declaration, despite the utmost sincerity in it, was going to lead to a confession about a very sensitive topic. "You would tell me. You promised you'd tell me if you took Vicodin again. You promised to talk to me, if the need to take the pills ever..." She trailed off, her eyes glazing over as the guilt in his eyes seemed to confirm her fear.

"I couldn't," House's trembling voice made her open her eyes and she was surprised to see him clutching the treacherous orange pill bottle with his other hand, pulling it from his pocket. "I want to, but I couldn't."

Sitting up on the bed, Cuddy tentatively reached for the hand clutching the Vicodin. She enclosed his hand with hers before pressing her forehead to his.

"You don't need it," she whispered, breathing him in whilst she took the bottle gently from his tightly clasped hand. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm here," she breathed comfortingly against his ear.

"I took one," House finally admitted, pulling back to look her in the eye. He was already breathless from bracing himself for what he thought would be inevitable: her breaking up with him. "I spit it out," he added, imploring her with his eyes to believe him.

Cuddy studied his face for a while.

"I'm proud of you," she finally said, giving him a small comforting smile as she caressed his warm skin. And she was proud of him. For fighting the need to block his pain. For being there with her instead of drinking his sorrows away— instead of stoning himself into oblivion at the thought of being without her. "I'm so proud of you," Cuddy repeated, pressing her lips against his cheek.

House sighed heavily, making her aware of just how tensed and relaxed his form was both at the same time. Tensed, because he was still expecting his confession to blow up in his face, and relaxed, because she hadn't, and accepted his apology.

Despite her assurances though, he was still fighting what he felt, fighting his demons. He was there with her, but struggling to be.

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Cuddy reassured him, her voice as quiet and soft as a caress. "It's okay to feel it, House," she cooed, running her fingers through his hair.

This wasn't supposed to be about him, but she didn't give a damn. This was about her, but it was also about _them_. He had fought himself to be there for her and she'd be damned if she allowed him to suddenly withdraw from her by bitching about it and ignoring his monumental effort.

"It's okay to feel this pain," she stated, because she felt the pain _he_ was feeling as well; the fear of having no tomorrow, no future, the pain of impending loss. "It's okay to feel afraid," she whispered, her voice trembling as a tear slipped past her defenses, breaking her façade.

At that moment it was as if their roles had suddenly shifted. As she suddenly, unexpectedly broke down, he lowered the bedrail separating them and wrapped her in his strong arms, running his hand against her unruly curls.

The weight of his emotions and the gravity of his pain were so palpable she couldn't carry them with hers anymore, so she broke down and cried in his embrace, releasing the fears and the pain she felt raging within her.

She didn't want to die. She didn't want to be done with her work. She couldn't imagine leaving Rachel. She didn't deserve to lose another mother. She had yet to know her daughter more, see her grow up. She didn't want to lose House. She wasn't ready to leave him yet. She couldn't quiet her mind every time she thought about the probability of leaving them behind. She had only started to build a life with both of them.

House exhaled, tightened his arms around her, and closed his eyes as he tried to release the pain he felt at the same time he was trying to absorb hers. Hard as it was, nothing was going to keep him from being there for her.

He couldn't imagine a lifetime without her. Her smile, her intoxicating laugh, her eyes, her stunning beauty and her intellect. He didn't want to think of the remainder of his life without having her to hold, to press his lips against the warmth and softness of hers, to feel her body against his. He didn't want to accept that it was a possibility, especially after what his team had discovered, but he knew he had to accept it at one point.

But, since she was at that moment, in the _present_, still in his arms, warm and alive and stunningly beautiful despite what she thought, he wouldn't. Her sudden vulnerability fed his protectiveness and fueled his resolve to be her pillar, be her strength. She had always been his. It was time to prove to her and himself that he could do better and that he didn't only think of himself, prove to her that he loved her more than anything he ever had or ever would.

Cuddy sniffed against his chest and looked up at him almost shyly, her cheeks tinted and her eyes puffy.

He suddenly realized just how much she affected him, made him better. It was proven only moments ago by how her acceptance of him, her faith in him, made him stronger, molded him to be just what she needed without even having to enforce it the way she'd been trying to recently, without having to enforce it at all.

"I love you," he suddenly whispered, quiet and sweet and true.

Cuddy made a sound that was between a chuckle and a choked sob as she pressed her forehead against his.

"I love you, too," she whispered before pressing their lips together, tenderly molding hers into his.

When they parted he looked at her, took her in. His hand slid up to wipe away the remainder of the tears she had shed.

"We'll find out more tomorrow. You should rest," he told her, moving his hands to rest on one of her legs.

"Stay with me?" she asked, fear for what tomorrow may bring creeping inside her again.

"Not going anywhere," House stated, his thumb stroking her skin reassuringly. "Not anymore," he whispered as an afterthought, making her eyes light up with hope and a sparkle of strength.

She lay down and he adjusted her blanket dotingly.

"Wait just a second," House suddenly got up and swiped the Vicodin bottle from the side table next to him where Cuddy had placed it when she took it from his hand. "This needs to go," he reasoned when Cuddy's face suddenly scrunched in confusion. He made for the private bathroom of the suite and spilled the bottle's contents into the bowl. With a sense of pride in himself, he flushed them down the drain, no speck of regret wrapping him in its clutches. He threw the bottle into the bin next to the bowl and walked back into the room, grinning boyishly at Cuddy who was smiling back at him.

"So..." He said, leaning against her bed.

Cuddy bit one side of her lip, not able to hide how happy she was at that moment. She was still afraid of what tomorrow might bring, but she felt stronger, safer, with him by her side.

"So..." She mimicked, a grin still occupying her lips. "Lie with me," she said, moving to the right of the bed to make space for him.

House shook his head, smirked, and said, "I won't fit there. I'll stay here until you sleep."

"Your leg-"

"Will be fine," he cut her off, taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers.

"I'll sleep on the couch when you doze off," he assured her. He ran his thumb along hers, eyes boring softly into hers.

"I'll be okay," Cuddy said, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

House nodded, hoping she was right.

"C'mon, big day tomorrow," House joked quietly. "Get some sleep."

Cuddy moved closer to him and he dipped his head down to place a soft kiss on her lips. "Sweet dreams, beautiful," he teased with a barely there smile.

"Night." The right side of her mouth twitched up as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Minutes later when she found out that she was having a bit of a hard time sleeping, she opened her eyes to see him watching her.

"Stop staring. I can't sleep," she pouted in feigned annoyance.

Instead of throwing a witty retort or sarcastic remark, he only smirked at her and unlaced their fingers.

She was about to complain when he started running his fingers through her messy hair. He wrapped his free hand with hers. In just a few minutes, she was fast asleep. He tucked her in more securely when he was certain that she was in a deep slumber.

He watched her sleep, thinking just how close he came to losing her and how that could still come to pass. He tentatively reached for her, ghosting the back of his hand against her cheek.

Hours later he woke up to fingers carding through his hair. He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again as he grunted in discomfort. His hand shot down to his thigh which was beginning to cramp.

"Lay down on the couch," Cuddy whispered, nodding toward the sofa.

House gingerly moved towards it, exhaling through his nose as he lowered himself onto the upholstery. He tilted his head against the arm rest as he stroked his thigh.

Cuddy frowned when she saw the pain he was in, her chest constricting when she noticed his nostrils flaring as he breathed.

"I'll call for some Ibuprofen," she softly told him when his eyes searched hers a minute later. House shook his head, telling her he would be fine in a bit.

"You should have stayed on the couch last night," Cuddy scolded in a warm tone, her heart swelling at the thought of him having stayed beside her the entire time. Waking up with him still clasping her hand, it was enough to make her explode with content. She felt bad that his thigh was now complaining from that act though.

House watched her with his soul-searching blue orbs, not speaking.

"You're beautiful," he spoke minutes later, finally putting an end to the silence.

Cuddy arched a brow at that, but the other side of her mouth was already slowly tugging up to form a slight smirk.

"I mean it," he stated seriously.

"Right, I-"

"Don't get me wrong, you look like hell raineth upon thee," he teased, making her snort. "But..." He looked slightly uncomfortable in continuing, but with a deep breath, he soldiered through it.

"You _always _look stunning to me."

An ethereal smile broke free from her lips and he loved how her face flushed like she didn't know just how much she affected him.

Unconsciously, she brushed her hair from her face and said, "Thank you."

"Dr. Cuddy?" Cuddy's attending interrupted them, entering the room. The doctor informed House and Cuddy that she would be prepped in an hour. He left a clipboard on Cuddy's bed after briefly explaining what the paperwork.

"I'll be fine," Cuddy quietly said when the doctor left.

House, feeling more anxious and stressed by the sudden onslaught of thoughts in his mind, wiped his face and said miserably, "Neither of us can guarantee that."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did, then got up from the couch and sat beside her on the bed.

Cuddy tentatively reached for his hand and squeezed it with both of hers.

"What about Rachel?" House suddenly inquired before she could speak again. "If something happens..."

Surprised at his question, Cuddy told him, "Julia."

House nodded in understanding.

"This is ridiculous," Cuddy whispered.

House's eyes shot to meet hers. "I just want this to be over with."

"You and I both, sister," House replied, letting out a small grin.

Cuddy sat up, gently let go of his hand, and reached for the clipboard with the papers for her to sign.

When she was done signing them, she extended her hand for him to hold. When he did, she smiled sadly and happily as she felt his thumb stroking her skin tenderly. At least they had a good run, crazy as it had been, and this moment, both thought.

When she was wheeled to the OR prep-room, he leaned down towards her and kissed her tenderly, lovingly, letting her know he loved her. That he would be watching over her. That he would be there.

"If you don't make it, I won't sleep with anyone for at least a month," House teased faux-seriously as Cuddy was slowly being wheeled away to be prepped.

Not missing a beat, Cuddy retorted, "Make it two."

"Bitch."

The broad smile she gave him before the doors closed between them was immediately ingrained into his memory and his heart.

House went to the observation area as quickly as he could, so he could oversee the procedure.

Their eyes never strayed from one another's, electric blue melding into sapphire, as Cuddy let the anesthetic carry her away from consciousness.

Her last thought before drifting away was that he would never let anything happen to her if he could help it.

Cuddy was slowly emerging from the fog caused by the anesthesia, her mouth feeling a bit dry as she slightly moved her lips.

Turning her head to the side, her eyes opened to the sight of House sitting next to her bed, reading a journal.

"Hi," House greeted her, voice low and soft.

Cuddy returned his greeting.

"Hi."

Putting down the journal, House leaned his forearms on the bedrail and said, "Guess who doesn't have cancer? Me. Also you. Actually, you for sure. Me..."

"House."

"Your tumor was benign. An oncocytoma. They cut it out. You'll be fine."

"Then what was in my lungs."

"Once they ruled out cancer, I remembered that your mom was allergic to antibiotics. So I had them test your blood, and your IGE levels were through the roof because the lung masses were an allergic reaction. Now you're off antibiotics so your lungs should clear right up."

Cuddy smiled sweetly at him, which was immediately wiped off her face when House told her, "I brought you something," as he fished out a small, clear container from his pocket, held it in front of her face and playfully said, "Say hello to your tumor."

She immediately pushed his hand away, groaning in disgust. A split-second later, she said, "Wait," and took the container from him and studied the tumor intently.

They were silent for a while, House watching her think, observing her eyes, the muscles in her face as the gears in her mind ran.

He was still watching her when she started speaking again.

"There are so many things that I could be afraid of, and most of the time, I manage to... lock them up behind doors. But this happens... all those doors just burst open."

Cuddy turned to look at him, and she smiled lovingly at him, both proud and understanding what the far-away look her boyfriend's face had just taken meant.

"You just figured something out about your patient, didn't you? Go. Do what you do."

Before he stood up to leave though, House leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips.

His eyes studied her for a moment before he swallowed again, obviously working up the courage to ask her something.

"What?" Cuddy asked, her free hand caressing his stubble.

"Can I take you home? Take care of you?" he asked, swallowing again as he waited for her answer.

"Like cater to my every need and want?" Cuddy asked, her face serious but her tone slightly playful. She was already looking forward to it.

"Cater to you, guard over you with a shotgun on my lap. I'll even walk around naked if you want," House's voice was serious as he said this, fighting a grin from breaking his act.

"God no, don't!" His eyebrows shot up when she said this and she immediately explained, chuckling, "No nudity unless I need to shower and until I'm ready for some... action."

"So... After last night," House started uncertainly, "We're okay?"

Cuddy nodded as she stroked his lips.

"Yes. We're okay. We have some things to work through, but we're okay," she assured him.

House let out the smallest of smiles before standing straight and pressing a kiss to her forehead, his eyes closing as he inhaled. He felt so relieved and grateful that she was all right. That they were going to be okay.

He told her he'd be back in a bit before leaving the room.

Cuddy smiled as he left, thankful that she was going to be okay, that she still had years upon years to get to know Rachel and vice versa, and that she and House have jumped and passed another hurdle in their relationship.

She shuffled a bit on the bed, making herself more comfortable.

She closed her eyes, stopped thinking for a while.

She had time.


	7. A Chip Off the Old Block

**_A Chip Off the Old Block_**

* * *

**_._**

House entered the storage closet as fast as he could. He pulled the door shut behind him as quietly as manageable. He was a little surprised to find that the light was already on. He pulled a thick cloth, rolled it up lengthwise, and shoved it under the door to prevent light from streaking out.

"Hi."

House smirked at Rachel who, apparently, was hiding from Cuddy as well. She was tucked in one corner of the closet, an Oreo halfway to her mouth.

"So... What did you do?" House took an Oreo from the pack she offered him.

Rachel grinned, not answering. House obviously already knew why.

"It's really not that hard to eat dinner first before bribing your way to cookies," he told her as he chewed. Besides, Cuddy always gave in to Rachel's requests whenever she finished her dinner.

"What _you _do?" Rachel watched him suspiciously as she took another cookie from her pack. She bit onto it, batted her eyelids, and continued staring at him.

"Well..." House's lips firmed into a very thin line.

Rachel started to grin lopsidedly. She knew he was in for a lot more trouble than she would be. Even if she ate cookies before dinner, she knew she'd be able to finish her dinner anyway. She wasn't going to eat so many cookies that her appetite would be spoiled.

"That bad?" She chuckled quietly at House who just smirked at her in return.

"Not really," House shrugged. "I just did something really cool at work." He winked at her which made her eyes widen with excitement.

"No!" She gasped quietly. She loved his stories about his patients and the very risky procedures he had to perform or have done to his patients.

"What did you do?" Rachel insisted, her voice a little louder. She clamped a hand on her mouth, but her bright blue eyes were still wide with curiosity and excitement.

House squinted one eye as he said, "I... Well. I kind of drilled a hole into my patient's skull."

Rachel's mouth fell open with shock and she slowly smiled with delight. "That's awesome!" She whispered in awe. In a voice she was obviously trying to keep controlled, she asked, "Did it help? Did you find out what's wrong?"

"Yup." House answered with pride.

Rachel chuckled. With a slightly confused look, she inquired, "Then why are you hiding from Mom?"

"I didn't ask for her permission," House divulged, making Rachel giggle. "And the patient's parents are really mad at me."

"You cured their kid."

"I didn't ask for permission. I just did it. Because we were running out of time."

"So, Mom's out for your head, because you didn't ask for the patient's parents' permission?" Rachel asked to clarify, biting into an Oreo and handing him the pack again. He took two. "Even if you helped their kid get better?"

House nodded. "Yup."

"The parents are morons," Rachel huffed.

Grinning, House nodded again, "That they are."

"What will Mom make you do when she finds you?" Rachel asked curiously.

"She'll make you go do your homework and him go back to work and apologize to his patient and her parents," Cuddy cut House off before he could even say anything. She swung the door open wider, smirking at the partners in crime.

"Or?"

Rachel stifled her grin as she awaited her mother's reply.

"You're sleeping on the couch with Rhino," Cuddy retorted seriously, staring House down. "For three days."

Rhino was their beagle puppy. Rachel named him after Rhinovirus. He used to sneeze a lot.

Rolling his eyes, House stood up and smirked. "You're mean," he whined at Cuddy as he started to make his way to the front door.

"You're crazy." Cuddy smirked back at him.

"You love me anyway," House threw back, glancing at her once, loving how he could always make her eyes soften when he was being playful like that.

Cuddy walked towards him, already near the front door.

"I do," Cuddy smiled as she gave him a quick peck on the lips. "But not so much when you break hospital rules and policies. And facilities."

A hand settling on his stomach, she asked, "Don't you get tired of me, bossing you around?"

Grinning as he gazed down at her, House shook his head. "Never."

Cuddy snorted. "You're probably the only man who likes it when I get angry."

"I'm sure I could rally all the men at work who loves it when you're fuming," House replied mischievously, bobbing his eyebrows up and down. "Especially since you're chest heaves when you're mad." House leered at her for a couple of seconds before adding, "Well. Some of the men. Others are afraid you'd take a letter opener and cut their balls off if they made eye contact. "

Rolling her eyes, Cuddy backhanded him on the stomach as she stepped back. "You're a pig."

House only smiled, cupping her elbow and drawing her back to him.

"What's for dinner?" he asked.

"You'll find out later. Apologize to your patient and her parents and maybe I'll add in a dessert... Or two." Cuddy winked seductively at him before making her way back to the kitchen.

"Don't even think of faking it. I've asked Wilson to supervise!" She called out over her shoulder.

House smirked.

"You're going to need this," Rachel said as she approached him. She handed him the pack of Oreos which still had five or more cookies in it.

"Thanks," House said, taking the pack.

"I think it's unfair that you have to apologize," she said, pouting a bit. "You helped. You don't have to apologize for helping."

House nodded. "Well, I should have asked for permission."

"Why didn't you?" Rachel asked curiously. "If you knew you had to have permission first, then why didn't you ask for permission first _then _do the cool surgery?"

House opened the front door, took a cookie from the pack and shoved it into his mouth.

Smirking, he told Rachel, "Where's the fun in that?" before closing the door behind him.

A brow still arched, Rachel followed her mom to the kitchen.

She sat herself on one of the bar stools, arms folded on top of the sleek surface.

"Mom?"

Cuddy looked at her daughter once before training her eyes back to what she was cooking.

"Yes, honey?"

"Why does Dad always get in trouble at the hospital even if he does something right? Even when he helped someone get better."

Sautéing away, Cuddy answered her and House's daughter's question. House had adopted Rachel when she turned five.

"Well, there are times when your father just... solves his case out of the blue. We call this an epiphany. Sometimes he gets really carried away that he forgets to ask for consent or permission, if one is needed. Like earlier today, when he and his team drilled into his patient's skull to get something that's been causing the patient's problems. Sometimes, he just doesn't want to get _my _permission. There are times when he goes behind my back and does something against the rules."

"But he did save his patient, right?"

"Yes," Cuddy said, glancing at Rachel from time to time as she moved around the kitchen.

"Then what's the problem?"

Cuddy was actually proud of their nine year old for having many questions.

"The problem is, without a signed consent, if something went wrong during the procedure, your dad would be in a lot of trouble. The _hospital _could get into really big trouble. If he made even the smallest mistake, he could go to jail for it, especially if he didn't have consent and waiver forms signed," Cuddy explained, keeping her words and examples simple.

"Well, what if the parents didn't agree and the procedure was the only way to keep Dad's patient alive?" Rachel asked worriedly.

Cuddy smiled inwardly.

"Normally, that'd be hard. We would have to get more proof that the procedure is the last and only option. When it comes to your father though, he keeps breaking that rule. That's why he gets into a lot of trouble."

"Was Dad ever wrong?" Rachel's brows drew together.

Smiling, Cuddy said, "Your Dad says he's always right."

Rachel chuckled. "Is that true?"

"Most of the time. But sometimes he's not. There have been a couple of times where he got things wrong. But he fixes them in the end. All your Dad needs is a really good kick in the butt."

Rachel giggled.

They remained quiet for a while, Cuddy cooking while Rachel watched her, chin propped on her folded arms, eyes observant.

"I want to be a doctor like you and Dad, Mom. You and Dad help a lot of people."

Cuddy glanced at Rachel lovingly, her eyes soft. She smiled as she set the knife she'd been using down on the chopping board. She wiped her hands on the towel next to the board and approached her daughter.

"I think you'll make a great doctor," Cuddy told Rachel, looking into her eyes. She caressed her daughter's cheek, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Really?" Rachel asked, looking up into her beautiful mother's honest gaze.

Cuddy's smile was still intact as she nodded and said, "Yes."

Rachel smiled widely at her mother, feeling really happy all of a sudden.

Cuddy went back to cooking while Rachel jumped off the stool and retrieved her books and notebook from her school bag, Rhino scampering after her. While her mother made dinner, Rachel worked on her homework.

Later that night, House helped Cuddy with the dishes. She washed, he dried.

House suddenly noticed her lips tug up in a small smile out of the corner of his eye.

"Why are you smiling?"

Cuddy glanced at him, her smile widening as she told him, "Rachel told me she wanted to be a doctor."

That made House return her smile.

"She's really smart. She'd make a great doctor someday," House stated proudly.

Cuddy suddenly chuckled.

"What?" House asked, an eyebrow arched.

Smiling fondly up at him, Cuddy handed him another plate to dry off and teased, "I couldn't imagine there being another Doctor House in Medicine."


End file.
